Storm.

Prologue

I remember it perfectly, I think it may be the only thing I remember so clear.  When my skin was not so pale, when my eyes were rested, when I was not just a laboratory experiment.

Nothing has changed in this long time I have been here, I wish I knew how long. The same people, the same rutine, the same voices.

It may be early in the morning, or late at night, maybe the afternoon. I never know. I am sitting where I always sit, in the left corner below my window, with my notebook in my hands and my pencil, drawing anything I can remember, even the slightest detail of what used to be everything outside.

A red light lights up all of a sudden and I hide my things under my bed.

My door opens and I watch the guards come in and tie my hands behind my back. There is no point in fighting them anymore. I have fought for so long that all my strength suddenly disappeared. Now I just walk, if I can. I do not realize I am crying until the tear slides down my cheek. I am not crying because I am sad, I am crying because I know how much pain I am about to go through.

They put me in the usual room and sit me in the chair in the middle, tie my arms and legs and check my heart rate, eyes and temperature.

"I am so happy to see you again, little girl." My whole body shakes as I hear his voice. God, I despise him.

He gets closer to me and removes my hair from my face. One of his assistants hands him the huge needle and I close my eyes. Just breathe. It never gets better. 

The needle starts going through the skin of my forearm and I try not to scream. My hands are probably bleeding from how hard my nails are pressing them.
I can feel the liquid going through my arm, then my neck, my chest, and after a few minutes, the feeling disappears. He takes out the needle and I breathe heavily to recover from the pain.

This will never hurt less as time goes by.

"Today we are doing something new. Wanna know what it is?" The doctor says cleaning his hands.

"No." I say with a very weak voice.

"It will be very fun, well for me at least." I look up to the ceiling and contain my emotions.

One of his assistants inyects anesthesia on my right thigh and I instantly get scared, it is always bad when we have to use anesthesia.

The doctor grabs his recorder and starts speaking.

"Experiment number 0148, doing a muscle biopsy on subject OS6049."

Muscle biopsy, muscle biopsy...

I wish I knew what it was, but whatever it is, sounds painful.

The doctor approaches my leg with a small knife that I still do not know the name of.

"It is better if you look away." Should I? Well, it is too late, he starts cutting a long line on the side of my thigh and I can not look away. They start doing something inside, something with scissors and all of a sudden I feel a strong pain. Did the anesthesia go away? It definitely did.

I start screaming, crying. It hurts. They know my body processes anesthesia faster than normal people. 

"Doctor, she is doing it again." Instead of stoping, he smiles and continues doing it. Every second that goes by it hurts more and more.
All of their tools start falling to the floor. I can't help it, I feel everything in this room as I try to find something to hold on to. Every tool, every piece of metal, every person, every bone inside of them, and with every scream I let out, another little machine explodes.

"Stop!" The usual purple flares emanate from my hands and he smiles even more.

"Give me more, we are not done yet!" I know the consequences if I do this, but it is too much. I take the scissors out of his hands and throw them across the room.

"Put her to sleep." The last words I hear from the voice I hate so much, repeat themselves over and over again as everything starts to get black.

I wake up, again in my usual all-white room, I stand up from my bed and notice my leg is covered by gause. I try to walk but the pain won't let me.
I sit back down and look through the window. Will is playing in the floor of his room and turns to see me as I stand close to the window.

He lifts his thumb to ask if I am okay. We always do this when one of us goes into trials.
I put my thumb down and show him my leg. I look at him once more and sit on my bed again.

Will is like my little brother, he was already here when I came. At first he wouldn't say a word to me, but I figured out his mind and saw he was still suffering, I couldn't help but do everything I could to help him. It's a shame, so much grief for a 7 year old boy, he still has a life in front of him. And for someone to take it away from him to do stupid experiments is simply just horryfing, so I've tried to protect his mind in any way I can. 

Then there's Anne. I think she is past her twenties, ginger hair, ginger eyes. She has a mind block, so there is not much I can do about that, I can't see inside her. I have never heard her voice, or any sound near to it. There is five rooms in this little pentagon that we live in. Only three of them are occupied, the other two have always been empty.

Not until today.